Jun. 15th, 2005

I accidentally left my book in Florida. So I picked back up Gregory Maguire's "Lost". This particular passage just struck me. My head screamed "THAT'S IT! That's SO it!" So, I thought I'd share.

..."When you lose all, there is nothing to relish. The sun comes up as it does right now, streaking the land with buttery blandishments, grey-blue shadows; a few birds wheel high in the sky, suggesting the nearness of the sea. Every hour past, present and to come emerges out of this very moment, here on this road barreling toward a headland: every last sensation of life has accelerated toward this day and is derived from it, somehow. But birds can wheel all they want; all they do is define the emptiness of the sky. The whole planet spreads out from this Renault Elf, corrupt and formidable and regenerative, wrinkling into Himalayas and Alps and Andes, rocking with Atlantics and Pacifics, pocked with Aleutians and Azores and Falklands and Cyclades, sectored into time zones, blanketed with weather, gripped in space, lost in admiration of itself and none of it has the power to charm anymore. Not the smallest swallow on that ledge, pecking a crumb. She'd as soon kill it as look at it. The magic world, the world of childhood, was dead.

"There was so much promised to us, as kids," she murmered at last. "It was all lies and adults should be shot"....

Of course, the FIRST thing that struck me was "Holy fucking crap that is one hell of a run-on sentence." Go figure. Some things are just ingrained in me. Like, oh, say NOT CREATING PARAGRAPH LONG RUN-ON SENTENCES with the use of some (not necessarilly well placed) punctuation.

Here's where I get long-winded )

These thoughts seem pretty fragmented, but they connect just fine for me.


Sichernde Seele

November 2005


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